“She—she does,” Nyra stutters. “She belongs here as much as I do, and I’ve never felt I belonged anywhere.”
Vanitee’s eyes soften as she gazes at my sister.
My heart sinks right to my stomach at the sound of those words.
She really feels that way? She’s always been so happy in our pack. She was always the put-together mom. The good wife. The perfect daughter.
“You’re not like her, Nyra. Not at all.” The queen’s mother all but slices right through my chest with the glare she’s giving me.
“Maybe neither of them belongs,” someone whispers like a hushed omen that shivers through the crowd.
Fuck.
Nyra’s full lips fall to a frown that I fucking hate. Vanitee’s hand slips around my sister’s waist lightly.
“I’m going to leave you guys to it. I’m not a good dancer. As you can see.” I force a smile that hurts to even form. I despise bowing out but I won’t risk alienating my sister either. Nyra’s pity smile is better than mine. Her hand brushes my arm as I walk by, and it doesn’t really amount to much.
“Don’t go, Cersia,” she whispers desolately.
But I do go. Because she’s accepted, and I’m not, and I’m just ruining her good time by being here.
And she deserves a good time.
No one deserves happiness like she does.
Within ten minutes, the group of them are right back to swaying their asses, and I’m right back on the sidelines.
As it should be, I guess.
“That was fuckin’ painful to watch, beautiful,” a rumbling tone from a salacious asshole whispers along my ear.
A real smirk twitches at the corner of my lips as his breath continues to caress the column of my neck.
“I don’t know what you mean.” My shoulders square hard, but even I can imagine what it must have looked like for me to sulk away from them with my wolfie tail between my legs.
“Really?” Big hands grip my hips slowly, fingers sinking into my flesh one by one, until he has me held intimately but roughly in his palms. “You forget rejection that quickly, huh? You’ll have to teach me your ways, because I remember every ounce of rejection you’ve ever tossed in my fuckin’ face.”
I spin on my heels, and I’m staring up into those stormy green eyes of his. “I don’t reject you.”
Booming laughter cuts from Roman’s throat as he throws his head back and all but howls at the moon over how fucking funny I apparently am.
Has he been drinking?
“Beautiful, you’ve rejected me so many times, I’m starting to think I’m a shame slut for how often I come back for more.”
A shame slut. Why am I smiling so hard right now?
His eyes shine like starlight as he trails over every one of my features so slowly, it’s like I can feel the heat of his stare burning over my skin. With a delicate pull, he guides me a single step closer to him.
My heartbeat is competing right now with the bang of the drums.
And my heartbeat is definitely winning.
He has this way about him. A flirting cruelty that hides the softness underneath that he’ll never show anyone.
Except for me I suppose.
His nose brushes mine as his head lowers. I can taste his exhales against my tongue, and I can’t help but lift my head to him.
